Black, White, and Shades of Gray
by 3v3ry6ody5 F00L
Summary: Summary inside. AU. no spies. Cam's an orphan, gets adopted, this is her life.
1. summaryprologue

Summary/ prologue:

Cammie doesn't know who her parents are- or were, if they're dead. Frankly, she doesn't want to know, she hates them for leaving her at this horrid place they call a 'children's shelter'. The only joy she ever found here was when the newbie sat at her table at lunch, so many years ago. He was her best friend for four and a half years, then he was taken to The Office.

There are many rumors about The Office; the older kids spread them to the little ones to scare them. Almost everyone above eight knows that it's the room you go to to talk some person, and if they like you, they adopt you. Cammie hates that room for a number of reasons. One, she's been brought in there so many times, s he could tell you where everything is from memory. All the older kids call her 'Unwanted'. She heard some adult call her "Crass, rude, and arrogant." The second reason why is because her best friend went in there once, _once_, and was taken off with his new 'family'. He was worse than she was! He said things she wouldn't even dare thinking!

So, knowing that, you also know she was a little resentful of The Office, and didn't really like going in there. It hadn't happened as much in the three years that after He was adopted. For a year and a half, not a single living soul had tried to call her there. So Cammie was a little surprised when she heard, "Cameron Morgan, please come to Mr. Smith's office. There is someone who would like to talk with you."

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><p><strong>Okay, one: I do'not own the Gallagher Girls Series<strong>

**Two: This idea was inspired by FIGHTER by 4evertrue, at around one in the monring. (Check it out. it is AWESOME!)**

**Three: though inspired by it, I already know my plot, and it is very different from her story. I am telling you this now, so don't _anybody_ say that i am re-writing her story. I would never do that, and I have enough creativity to come up with my own ideas. If I ever use anyone's idea( like when I have writer's block), I will make sure the person gets credit for it.**

**Four: AU and no one has any ties to the Alphabet agencies**

**Five (this is getting longer that I thought it would): If you want me to continue, tell me. Review of PM, I really don't care. Just do it.  
>Actually, even if you think it should crash and burn, tell me.<strong>

**Six(last one): If you deem this worthy of continuation, would you like it to be in first or thrid person?**

**love ya'll**

**~3v3ry6ody'5 F00L~**


	2. Chapter 1

**Thank you all for the nine wonderful reviews. You're awesome. the characters will be OOC, I'm purposely doing that so they will fit into the plot. Most of them won't change much.**

**I don't own- It's all on Miss Carter.  
>On with the story.<strong>

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><p>I was sitting on the floor of the room I share with Courtney and Eva. They were nicer to me that the rest of the kids in here, which meant that they were coolly polite at best. The older kids didn't like me much, and the little ones avoided me like the plague. I thought they were afraid of me. I'm not sure why, but I think Tina had something to do with it. When Tina doesn't like you, you know it. She'll tell you straight out that you're ugly. She gets away with it because she's the oldest here in the program—sixteen. Tina hasn't ever like me. Once, she told a group of five-year-olds the when they were brought into The Office, they were taken to the boiler room and I would hack them up with a chainsaw. I didn't here it from word of mouth, either. I heard her tell them. I was sitting, like, five feet from them. When she said that, I got up and told her how I felt about that. I guess I could have been a little nicer, but <em>nice<em> doesn't get through Tina's head very well. An hour later, there were some _nasty_ rumors going around about me. I'm not even going to try to explain them, so take the meanest thing you can think of and times it by ten, and you still won't be anywhere near how bad it was._ And the moral of this story is: Don't get on the bad side of Tina Walters._

And, that was only about a month ago, so I was still hiding from everyone. And, unfortunately—or was it _fortunately—_I was _very_good at hiding. Thinking about how bad things were, got me thinking way back to when things weren't so bad. Yeah, Tina was still a nightmare, and yeah, the food was still gross and slimy, but at least I had a friend.

His name was Zach. He was close to six months older than me, and we told each other everything. He couldn't believe that I'd been in foster care my whole life. See, he'd had a family, but there was a tragic car accident, and he had no surviving relatives. At first, I didn't like him. He was mean and very straight forward but then I realized that I was too. I didn't really try to be, but it felt good to speak my mind—even if it got me in trouble later. We almost immediately clicked after that. He was very funny, and when he laughed really hard, he would snort, which sent us further into giggles. His black hair was too long, and he was pretty tall when he left. He was adopted four and a half years after we met, making him ten.

I was jerked out of my thoughts by the lunch bell being rung. I went and got my food from the fools who got duped into kitchen duty. Turkey slop, yay! Insert sarcasm here. It was this disgusting turkey gravy over the standard paste-y mashed potatoes with a stale roll on the side. I walked to the back of the room, wondering whether the bread was the safest thing to eat. I picked at my food, like always. I avoided the stares and glares. Even though I've been here the past thirteen and a half years, it has never felt like home. I wished that I had a family—just one person would be fine—like in the books I read. Sure, they have problems, but nothing like this hell house. I was just about to throw away the slime on my tray when Ms. Hancock, the secretary, walked up to me. People stopped and stared. When she was closer to me, she said, "Cameron Morgan, Please come with me to Mr. Smith's office. There is someone here who would like to speak with you."

I got up and followed her through the halls. I despised The Office. Too many bad memories. I walked through the pale yellow door and sat down in one of the chairs, waiting for Mr. Smith's door on the other side of the lobby to open. When it did, I heard him say, "She used to be the sweetest little thing, I'm not sure what happened. She likes to keep to herself a lot, but when you get her riled up..." He trailed off, holding the door for a tall man with short-ish black hair.

He was okay-looking, I guess, if you're into that whole rugged thing. Tina would be _all_over him. He smiled when he saw me. He walked over and squatted down in front of me, putting us at eye-level. He held out a hand. "Hello. My name is Joe Solomon. You must be Cameron."

I looked him in the eyes. "It's Cammie. If you try to hit on me, I'm gonna kick you."

Mr. Smith and Ms. Hancock looked appalled. "I'm so sorry about that, Mr. Solomon. It seems she hasn't really learned to filter—''

Joe Solomon chuckled a bit. "No. it's perfectly alright. She only knows my name, after all."

There was a call at the front desk and the secretary ran to grab it. Mr. Smith looked a little uneasy. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to it." He walked swiftly back to his office.

"So, tell me a little about yourself, Cammie," Joe Solomon said.

"You already know everything about me."

"Ah, but I want to hear your side of the story. The details they don't put in files, like your favorite dinner they serve here." Okay, he was officially the coolest adult I'd ever met.

"All the food here sucks, but the best is probably the grilled cheese."

"Do you have any friends here?"

"No," I closed my eyes. "I did, but he left a couple years ago."

He didn't say anything for a moment. "Do you like to play sports," he asked finally.

"I guess. I like to play soccer the best. I read a lot, too."

"Oh, really? What kind of books?"

"Pretty much anything. I like the Jason Bourne books."

We talked like that for a while. Before I knew it, it was free hour. Free hour is the one time of the day when you you could do practically anything. A bunch of kids rushed through the lobby and out the doors the the dinky playground outside. It was about six-thirty. A couple girls stood near Ms. Hancock's desk, staring at me. I glared at them. "What," I snapped. Their eyes widened and they hurried away.

"That wasn't very pleasant, Cammie," the man said.

"You don't think that was pleasant? That was nothing, Joe Solomon. Wait 'til Tina shows her nosy face. You'll get a cat fight."

Joe Solomon checked his watch and grimaced. "It's almost seven. I can't stay much longer. I have to go home and and take my dog for a walk. I will be back tomorrow, so don't make any plans."

"You have a dog?" _I always wanted a dog._

"Yeah, she's a German Shepard named Ally. She's the sweetest thing. I also have a gray American short hair named Carter."

"That's a cat, right?"

"Yeah, very good." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I really have to go."

"Okay, bye." I said.

He walked over to the desk and grabbed some papers from the secretary and waved as he strolled out the front doors. I walked back to my room, and jumped into my hard, lumpy bed and fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

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><p>The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual. I sat on my bed by the window and watched the sun rise. I couldn't stop thinking about what could happen later. I was bored, so I started to pack up my meager belongings. I had some thrift store clothes, a stuffed bear that I've always had, and a CD I've never beed able to listen to. I put it all in a back pack and slid it under my bed.<p>

~#~

I must have dozed back off, because when I opened my eyes, I saw that the room was fully lit and both of the other beds wee empty. I dressed and walked out to the mess hall to catch the end of breakfast. When I walked in, everything was silent. I could feel their eyes on me as I moved to the front of the room for my rubber eggs and burnt toast. When I sat down, I tried to ignore the looks, like I normally do, but it was too much. This time, I did absolutely nothing to deserve the stare-down. I ate quickly and, since it was Monday, went to my first class.

We only have four to five classes a day, depending on your age and learning level. I was one of the 'older kids' if you will. and I was pretty smart, so I had five classes. In third period, right before lunch, Mr. M passed back our quizes. Somewhat surprisingly, I had the top score, Only beating Tina by three points. We had the last ten minutes to talk, and I don't really like being a total be-yach, so I was going to say something nice to Tina. Instead, She came up to my and stared yelling at me becuase "I put my name on her paper when no one was looking" and that "I stole her spot as having the highest grade in the class".

"You're being delusional, Tina. I never did any of that." I told her calmly.

"You lying little whore!" She screamed it. Almost nobody noticed because it was so loud.

My mouth dropped open. I may be able to handle a lot, but not that. I full out decked her in the face. I heard and felt the crunch of her nose as it broke.

Mr. M, who was always very laid back, looked sternly at me. "Cameron. Mr. Smith's, now!"

I exited the room with my head held high. I wasn't the only one who'd wanted to do that, some people have been talking about it for a while. I took a pit stop in the bathroom to wash my hand off. When I was done, I sat in the lobby until someone came out to lecture me. I was lost in my head, reliving the joyous moment, and didn't realize that someone had walked through the doors. I heard them talk to Ms. Hancock, and they sat down a few chairs away from me. She was pretty, dark brown hair with hints of red, and exotic looking hazel eyes. She smiled at me.

"What are you out here for," she asked

I looked at her. "I broke one of my classmate's noses," I deadpanned.

"Oh," was all she said to that.

About ten minutes of awkward silence later, guess who walked through the door holdng a hand full of papers? If you guessed Lady GaGa, you were wrong; it was Joe Solomon. He glanced around and did a doublle take seeing me sitting there. He raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. He walked over to the desk and gave the secretary the papers, then sat between the lady and me.

"Hi, Joe Solomon," I practically chirped.

He laughed. "I told you to call me 'Joe'."

"But I know too many 'Joes'. It's too generic." It was true. There were at least four Joes that I knew of there, plus the janitor's name was Joe. "So it's either 'Joseph' or 'Joe Solomon'."

He chuckled and shook his head. "What are you doing out here, Cammie?"

"I socked Tina and broke her nose," I said, slightly proud.

"Cammie."

"What? She called me a lying whore! What was I supposed to do?" I was more than slightly offended by that.

"I understand why you're upset, but you can't just hit someone, even if you think they deserve it. If you could, everything would be an unending war."

I ducked my head, hiding my face with my hair. I was ashamed for the action that, seconds ago, I was very proud of. I didn't know why I felt like this. No one's ever really talked to me like that when I stepped out of line, normally they yelled at me and gave me kitchen duty.

"Hey, look at me," Joe Solomon said softly. I raised my head a little. "It's a good thing that can defend yourself and can protect yourself if something were to happen, but you need to know when you can take action and when you can't."

I nodded. Mr. Smith came out of his office and called Joe Solomon over. They talked quietly, and Joe Solomon shook the other mans hand and walked back over to me. "Let's go get your things. You're not staying here an hour longer."

I smiled and jumped up. I ran to the room that was no longer mine and ripped the door open. Courtney and Eva were sitting on Eva's bed, talking and laughing. When I burst through the door, they glared at me._ So much for coolly polite_, I thought. I grabbed my pack and looked around to see if I forgot anything. Nope. I looked at the girls.

"Bye, bye." I waved and left the room.

Joe Solomon found me in the hallway. "All ready packed," he asked, surprised.

"Yep," I said as I lifted the bag to my shoulder. We walked down the hall to the lobby and out the doors. As we walked to his silver pick-up, I turned around and yelled, "Good-bye, Hellhole!"

Joe Solomon was busy trying to control the German Shepard that was pushing its way out of the front seat. "Cammie, I'd get in before she moves to your seat," he advised.

As soon as I pulled myself up onto the sun-warmed leather, I was bombarded with dog kisses. Joe Solomon tried to pull her back. "Ally, get down. Hey, now!"

"_You're an all star_. Sorry, I had to do that." I turned my head just in time. If I was a second late, Ally would have gotten her tongue in my mouth. I scratvhed her head between her ears and she started to settle down.

Joe Solomon glanced over at me. "When we get back to the house, I'm going to make you a grilled cheese that will blow you out of your shoes and knock your socks off."

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><p><strong>You don't really need to know this, but when I wrote this, I was listening to 'Always' by Saliva, 'Psychosocial'<strong>**by Slipknot, 'Fallen' by Volbeat, 'So Cold (Acoustic Version)' by Breaking Benjamin and 'F**kin' Perfect' by P!nk**

**Let's try for an even fifteen on reviews this time. That's only six for this chapter, we can do it.**  
><strong>Tell me what you like, what you hate, if you think I should add or change anything.<strong>

**I'm starting Driver's Training tomorrow! Stay off the sidewalks!**

**~3v3ry6ody'5 F00L~**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey, my readers! You are all awesome. I am so, so, so, so, so sorry. this was supposed to be up weeks ago. My mom banned me from the computer, and i had a tiny bit of writers block. I think most of this chapter sucks.**

**_ispy_ brought to my attention that I named the cat 'Carter'. I actually meant to say 'Charlie'. so the cat's name is Charlie, now. Sorry bout that!**

_**atrivida **_**chica ****asked if the lady in the lobby was important to the story. that was a very good question, one that i have no idea how to answer. She may be, but not as of yet.**

****I do not own!**

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><p>Ch 2<p>

*6 months later*

"Charlie, bet away from that!" I shooed him away from the chicken salad I'd just finished making. I heard the front door open and keys jingle. "Joe? That you?"

"Ya, who did you think it was, the CIA," Joe Solomon said as he put his keys on the counter. "And you just called me 'Joe'."

"Did, I? Well, we'll just have it fix that, Joe Solomon." I smirked as I stirred the macaroni noodles. Joe was an _okay_ cook. Grilled cheese and soup were his strong points. I did the rest of the cooking. I didn't mind, though. It was fun and quite relaxing.

"How was school today, Cammie," he asked as he vacated the kitchen, going into his room. As I was about to answer him, I heard a crash and a muffled, "Damnit!"

"Joe Solomon, are you okay?"

"Ya, just fine," he chuckled. "Just tripped over a stack of boxes."

He was always doing that. We both were, actually. We were stilled unpacking form our big move four months back. There wasn't enough room for two people, an uber-lazy cat, and a growing German Shepard pup in Joe's small four-and-a-half room house. To find a good place that we liked, we had to move out of the city to a small town called Roseville. I didn't mind. _At all._ The city was way too crowded and noisy. Roseville was nice and quiet. It felt like my life was settling down a bit. I hadn't been in a fight since we moved, which was a new record for me. I'd made some friends at school, even.

The water boiling over brought me back to the present. I quickly turned the burner off and poured the steaming water and noodles into a strainer. Joe Solomon walked back into the kitchen. "You never answered my question. How was school?"

"Oh, fine. Bex wants me to come over tomorrow after school. Liz is going over there too. We plan on having a movie marathon," I stated. We did this every few weeks, so I knew it was okay for me to go.

"That's fine, but don't make any plans for Sunday. One of my old friends is in town and we're all going to dinner."

"Why do I have to go?"

"Because I haven't seen her in a long time and I need someone to keep it from being too awkward." Huh, I never thought I'd see the day Joe Solomon was nervous about going to dinner with a lady.

"It'll be awkward if I'm there or not. I may make it even more awkward for you," I pointed out.

"Yes, but you'll also bring comic relief."

"Oh, the ways you use me," I said sarcastically. "I'll go as long as I can bring my music." I can't live with out my music. It is impossible.

"Thank you, Cammie." Joe Solomon hugged me. I let him for a minute, then pulled back.

"Out," I said, pushing him out of the kitchen area. "I'll call you when I'm done."

It didn't take me long to finish dinner. I made up a couple of plates, called for Joe, and went to my room. I turned my radio on and sat on my bed. My walls were a lavender color, with deep violet and black polka dots. My ceiling was painted black and I super glued glow-in-the-dark stars on it.

After a little while, Joe Solomon came and asked me if I wanted to get ice cream. We walked down the street to Abram's Pharmacy. They had the best soft serve in the town, and were a surprising amount of ice cream places in this dinky place. When we walked in, Josh was manning the counter. He was one of my friends from school.

"Hey, how's it goin', Cam," he asked.

I leaned against the counter. "It goes. Can I get a vanilla-orange swirl?"

Josh smiled. "Sure thing. And for you, Coach Solomon?" Oops, I forgot to say Joe Solomon was the school's football/basketball coach. And P.E. Teacher.

"Just vanilla's fine for me, thanks."

I talked with Josh a little, then we made our way back to the house. I finished what very little homework I had and went to bed.

~#~

School seemed to drag on the next day. Even US History, which seemed like it was the fastest class since it was before lunch, went on for what seemed like hours. My friends and I bought our lunches as quickly as possible and sat down at our regular table. Bex sat across from me and Liz sat beside me. Soon, Bex's boyfriend Grant and his younger sister Macey sat with us. Macey, being the little gossip she is, asked, "Have you heard that we're supposed to get a new student within the next two weeks?"

"Hmph. News to me," I stated. I didn't really care if we got a new kid or not. It as if my world would end if I didn't meet the person. Macey was still gushing about it. I didn't even know why she was making such a big deal out of it.

"I also heard that it's a guy. In our grade! I hope he's hot!"

That explains everything. See, Macey has this unnatural obsession for hot guys. It's okay every once in a while, but with her, every time we see some cute boy, she is all over him. Also, on a different hand, Macey is a sophomore like my friends and me. Grant was a year older.

We carried on chattering about nothing until the bell rang. I ran to my locker and grabbed my graphite pencils and sketchpad for Basic Art 2. It was one of my favorite classes. I loved the atmosphere of the studio. The ceiling tiles were made of paintings from past classes and we worked at big hard-wood tables instead of desks. Also, it was the only class that allowed us to listen to our mp3 players.

I was _okay_ at the drawing-painting-artsy thing, but my favorite was using the sculpting clay and making small figurines. The two best ones that I've made are a boy chasing after a dog and a depressed looking fairy sitting on a rock; I haven't been able to paint that one yet.

Before I knew it, class was over and the torture of English 10 began. After that period, I couldn't close my eyes without seeing comas, semicolons, and apostrophes. It figures that the one class I hate is the one class I do the best in. Who'da thunk it?

My next class wasn't even technically a class. Study Hall. It was the second period I had with Josh (the other one was my first class of the day, Chemistry). I sat down in my seat and watched the clock for ten minutes. I looked around for Josh, but he wasn't anywhere in the room. Next thing I know, there are a couple guys yelling in the hallway. Everyone ran for the door to see what was going on, and I managed to get myself to the front of the crowd. It was Josh and Dillon, the asshole of a star quarterback, going at it. Or more like Dillon was using Josh as a punching bag. From what I'd heard, they were friends long ago, then things went sour and kept getting worse. This was their third fight this year. Except, Josh usually defended himself. Something was wrong. I was disgusted with everyone cheering the jerk on. Normally, I'd have been cheering for Josh, or going to get a teacher, but this time I stepped into the circle around the two teenage boys.

"Come on, you friggin' loser! Fight back!" Dillon screamed.

I walked up behind him and tapped him on the should. When he whipped around to get in my face, I socked him in the mouth. I wasn't going to let him beat one of my best friends any longer. Something snapped in me when I saw Josh pushed up against the lockers, doing _absolutely nothing_ to get away. I stepped away from him and slid down next to my friend to help him up. I slung his arm over my shoulder, though it didn't do much good, because he's, like, six inches taller than me.

Dillon was rubbing his jaw, glaring at me. "You're gonna go down, bitch. You won't get away with this." He spat near my foot and stomped off.

I looked around at some of the guys in the quickly dispersing crowd. "Could someone help me get Josh to the nurse's office," I asked as I shifted under the almost-dead weight. I knew that at least one of Josh's ankles were twisted, if not broken, by the way it was resting on the ground. He had a lot more damage, too. And not just bruises.

A taller dude stepped out and took Josh's other arm and we carried him to Nurse Kim's office. We got there pretty fast, but not fast enough to beat Joe Solomon. He was waiting for me outside the room with a disappointed look on his face. I made sure Josh was alright for me to leave, and fell into step with Joe as he took me to Mrs. Gallagher's office.

"Cammie," He said finally. "You were doing so well. What happened?" He made it seem like I'd had an addiction relapse.

"I punched Dillon because I wasn't going to watch him thrash my friend any more. Josh wasn't even doing anything to defend himself. He was just standing there taking it. I had to do something," I explained.

"Yes, and you could have gotten me or another teacher to break—" he started.

"I normally do. This time, if I would have, Josh could have worse than just bruises and a messed up ankle."

Joe Solomon closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm not going to argue with you right now. We'll talk about this later._"_

I didn't want to remind him that I was going home with Bex today. I sat the small lobby area, waiting for Mrs. Gallagher's punishment. Most likely, I'd get a three-day or a week suspension.

**(small time skip because I really don't know how to write this part)**

I was lucky and got away with a three day vaycay. On the bad side, it will be spent in my room. The bell rang as I walked out of the office. I ran to my locker and got my bag. I met up with Liz and Bex and we walked to her house. We threw our bags in her room and flopped down on the couch.

"What kind of movie do you feel like watching," Bex asked us. "My dad picked up a bunch of movies from the rental place."

"I really don't care. Just nothing too scary," Liz answered.

"I feel like a good romantic comedy. We can save the slashers for after Liz falls asleep," I added. We kneeled down in front of Bex's TV and sorted through her movies. It took us forever to get through them all. We ended up with four stacks of movies. Among the ones I picked out were _She's Out of My League, The Bounty Hunter, 50 First Dates, I Love You, Beth Cooper, _and _How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days._

We watched movie after movie until eight, when Macey came with _The Devil Wears Prada_. We watched that, then we made pizza. Surprisingly, I was the first one to fall asleep. That almost never happens. I just hoped that I didn't wake up with peanut butter on my face.

~#~

Joe Solomon picked me up around noon. I knew he would try to talk to me about the 'incident' as he would call it. He was quiet and fidgety all day, then it dawned on me that he was e_xtremely_ nervous about this dinner tomorrow.

After I made dinner, I walked into the living room with the two plates and sat down next to Joe Solomon on the couch. "So, tell me about her. Why are you so scared to see her again?"

The man next to me jerked his head. "What?"

"The woman we're meeting tomorrow. What's she like?"

Joe Solomon smiled. "Not quite sure. I haven't heard from her in years. She was my best friend in high school. Her name's Abby. She had long, dark hair and shining green eyes. She was very funny and a really great person. She was beautiful." He went on to tell me about them growing up together; all the funny stories up to the point when they went to different colleges and didn't contact each other until a week ago.

I asked him if he liked her in _that_ way and all he said was "We were friends and that's as far as it went." I didn't believe him, it was obvious by the way he talked about Abby that he had the hots for her. I hoped that things went well at the dinner.

**(line)**

The next day passed slowly. I sat in my room listening to the radio, just daydreaming. It got very boring. By the time six o'clock rolled around, I felt like I was gonna die. We were leaving in an hour and a half. I took a shower and curled my hair. I put on a nice pair or black pants and dark blue blouse the brought out my eyes. I fed Charlie and took Ally for a small walk around the yard.

Joe Solomon walked into the living room all dressed up. "You sure look snazzy," I told him.

"Thank you. It's about time to go."

We got into his truck and drove to the restaurant. It was fancy and I was glad I dressed up. It was a "You need to place a reservation at least a week in advance to get a table" place. Thankfully, Joe Solomon had one. We sat at the table and waited for Abby. Joe's phone buzzed and he turned around to look at the door. I couldn't see much but I saw someone who looked like the woman Joe described.

"Hello," a woman's voice said from behind me. Joe whipped around. I craned my neck up so I saw her upside down. She was pretty. "Hi, Joe." She smiled and hugged him. Abby was tall, though she was wearing four inch heels. She faced me and held out a hand. "I'm Abigail Cameron. You can call me 'Abby'."

I took her hand. "I'm Cameron Ann Morgan-Solomon. You can call me 'Cammie'. It's nice to meet you."

"Joe, Cammie, let me introduce my—where did he go?" Abby turned around, searching for someone. She walked a little way toward the door and grabbed the arm of a teenage boy who suck out like a sore thumb. He was wearing ratty jeans and a hoodie. She dragged him over to us. He looked very familiar. He glanced up at everyone, then back down to the phone in his hands. Abby held a hand out for it and put it in her purse. "Now, as I was saying, let me introduce my—"

The boy lifted his head and I gasped. "Oh. My. God. Zachary Goode, is that you?"

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><p><strong>listening to 'Simple and Clean' by Utada Hikaru, 'Not Afraid' by Eminem, 'Sing for the Moment' by Eminem, "Sick" by Adelitas Way, 'Misery Business' by Paramore, 'Lying Is The Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off' by Panic! At The Disco, and 'New Perspective' by Panic! At The Disco<strong>

**Side note: There is a Roveville, Michigan! I'm so going there one day.**

**Hope to have the next chapter up soon. Please review. let's try for 25.**

**~3v3ry6ody'5 F00L**


	4. Chapter 3

**Okay, this wasn't as short as i thought it would be, but it is kinda short. Oh, well. You'll live.**

**Damn, i love you guys. i got almost twenty reviews for the last chapter alone. Thank you all so much!**

**I don't own the GG series.**

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><p>Ch 3<p>

"Abby, why do I have to go. I don't know this person. He's _your_ old friend, not mine," I argued, not for the first time.

"You're going because I want you to, and I think you need to get out of the house. All you do is watch TV and text your friends. You're fifteen, for cripes sake! You should be out playing football, or baseball, or—or _something,_" Abby said as she walked out of her big closet. "What about this one," she asked, showing off a short red dress. It was a bit _too_ short, but this was the woman who's been my mother for almost five years. It was weird to see her in a dress one of my classmates would wear.

"No," I replied. She huffed and stomped back into her closet and slammed the door. She came out in a light blue monstrosity. It was covered in beads, sequins, and feathers. I didn't wait for her to ask, I immediately said, "Definitely not. Wait here."

I jumped off the bed and walked in the closet. It was full, plus a bunch of clothes on the floor. It was a little disgusting. "Are the clothes on the floor dirty," I asked.

"Nope, perfectly clean and wearable."

I sighed. This woman was hopeless. If I didn't clean and organize everything, you wouldn't be able to walk in the front door. I looked through the dresses that were on hangers. There was only one that I liked, but it was most definitely not what you would wear when going out to dinner. Even if it was a five-star place. I found a pair of black pin-stripe slacks and a white dress shirt with ruffles on it. I brought it out for Abby to see. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"Zach, you are a life-saver. Thank you!" She gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, "Now you need to go get ready. We leave in twenty minutes."

I sighed and went to my room. Every time she had a date, we would go through this. She would go and try on the flashiest thing she could find (sometimes I sat there for hours) then I would pick out a simple outfit, and she would love it. It's infuriating. I personally think she does it on purpose.

I looked down at my t-shirt and jeans. No stains, no need to change. I threw on a gray and black striped hoodie and walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I head Abby trying to get Chico back into his cage. He was complaining very loudly. Polly and Chico were our two African Gray parrots.

"Damn bird," I heard Abby say.

One of them, I think it was Polly, whistled and repeated. "Damn bird."

I laughed and walked into the living room. I dug around near the bird crates and found an open sleeve of Ritz. I took one out and put it between the bars of Polly's cage. When she bobbed over to take it from me, I pulled back slightly. "What do you say?"

She cocked her head to the side and shrieked. "Polly wants a cracker! Now!"

I gave her the round and petted her head. "You're a girl. You are very smart, indeed," I praised. I tossed a cracker into Chico's cage. Clearly, Polly was my favorite. That was because Chico likes to bite my ears.

Abby came up to me and frowned. "You aren't ready."

"There was no need to change. Everything is clean."

She looked at me like that was debatable. She licked her fingers and raised them toward my head. "At least let me fix your hair."

"Hey, it took an hour to get my hair like this," I objected.

She scoffed. "Yeah, an hour in bed." This was true, but still.

"Yes, and the ladies dig it."

"That may be a true story, but you aren't going out with 'the ladies' tonight, you're going out with me to meet a friend."

"Touchè."

When we got into Abby's Dodge Charger, she said, "I wouldn't feel too weird about being there, if I were you. I think he's bringing someone too. When we were talking, I heard a girl talking. She sounded young, your age."

I gaped at her. "Why didn't you tell my this before? I actually would have cleaned up a bit!"

She snickered. "Why are you so uppity about it? You aren't interested in the girls at school."

"That's because they go to my school. And they're all airheads," I pointed out.

"I'm beginning to think you believe every girl is an airhead, Zach."

I didn't respond to that. The rest of the car ride was silent, except for the radio playing softly. We pulled up to a somewhat fancy restaurant. I started to regret not changing, but you can't change the past. We walked in and the greeter**(not sure if that's what they're called) **asked, "Do you have a reservation?"

Abby stepped forward. "Yes. We're under the name 'Joseph Solomon'."

"Oh, yes. You are at table 34. It's right over there, in front of the third window. Your party member have already arrived."

"Thank you," Abby said and got out her phone to text somebody. I looked at where the lady said our table was. A man was turned around, looking at the door. There was also a young woman at the table. Abby was right, it wasn't his girlfriend, unless he was a pedophile, that is. She looked vaguely familiar, as if from a half-remembered dream.

My phone buzzed. It was Billy, one of my friends from school. I walked after Abby, stopping away from the table as she greeted them. Abby walked toward me and took my phone. She dragged me to the table. I lifted my face to shake the hair from my eyes and the girl gasped.

"Oh. My. God," she said. "Zachary Goode, is that you?"

I was more than a little surprised at that. She didn't got to my school. Okay, I was freaking out. "How do you know my name?"

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><p><strong>I'm listening to We Are the Fallen (too many songs to name), Evanescence (WAY too many songs to name), Panic! At The Disco (too many songs to name)<strong>

**If you can guess what movie the underlined statement is from, I'll give you a teaser for the next chapter, but you have to be signed in.**

**Let's try for 45 reviews, this time.**

**~3v3ry6ody'5 F00L~**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hello! Sorry for the wait, crap came up that I'm sure you don't want to hear about. this chapter does a lot of jumping around. sorry, that's the way it came to me. i do not own the gg series**

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><p>Ch 4<p>

"_How do you know my name?"_

_._

"Oh, no," Joe whispered. "This won't be good."

Abby looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about? How _does_ she know him," she asked quietly.

"Cammie told me about her one and only friend at the Cavan Orphanage, who was adopted about five years ago. His name was Zach Goode."

Abby gasped. "He's never told my anything about anything that happened their. I tried prying, but he completely shut down for a week. Oh, my."

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><p>"<em>How do you know my name?"<em>

_._

Zach didn't remember me. I immediately felt tears burn my eyes, but I pushed them back. _Maybe it's because I look different. He just doesn't recognize me,_ I told myself.

I made myself smile a little. "It's me, Cammie. From... It's been years." I let my timid smile drop when I saw complete confusion in his eyes. "This doesn't really surprise me. I mean, it has been a long time, a-and—" I couldn't go any further. I turned away before the tears spilled over.

"Joe, I'm going to the restroom," I pushed out of my mouth in a rush.

* * *

><p>Abby looked at her old friend. "I'll go talk to her." She followed the distraught girl out of the dining area.<p>

Zachary stood in the same spot, dumbfounded. "I honestly—I-I-I don't remember. I know my parents died in a fire when I was five. I know that I've only been with Abby since I was ten. I don't remember what happened in between. She looks familiar. I don't know who she is. Why don't I know who she is?" He seemed to be talking to himself. "She—Cammie. Cammie, Cammie, Cammie. Why does that name sound so—I..." Zach stopped as he briefly saw a young girl sitting at plastic marble table by herself, and him making the decision to sit by her. The girl turns, and he sees big light blue eyes staring at him like he was intruding.

"Damn, what was that? I need to get some air," Zach said stumbling toward the door.

Joe stood up and guided him back to the table and sat him down. He gave the boy a glass of water. "You're not going anywhere until Abby gets back. Tell me what you know."

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><p>I heard the door squeak open. "Cammie, are you alright?" It was Abby.<p>

I sniffed and wiped my eyes. I peaked out of the end stall. Abby was right outside. She pulled me into a big hug. "It's gonna be okay. But I a little out of the loop. What's going on?"

I swallowed and took a shaky breath. "I was at that sorry excuse for a child care facility since I was, like, six months old. No one ever ever liked me. I was too mean and didn't share my toys. One day, a new kid sat down at my table at lunch. It had to be a newbie because anyone that knew me wouldn't of dared. After I repeatedly told him off, I even shoved him off the bench, he still insisted on sitting there. He called me a jerk, and I called him that back, and he laughed his head off. We were like this," I crossed my middle finger over my index finger, "for almost five years. Then he was adopted, and everything went back to the way it was before. I didn't try to make new friends because I didn't want them. And now, he doesn't recall ever meeting me."

Abby pushed my hair out of my face. "I don't think that's your fault. He would never tell me anything about when he was at the orphanage. I think he might have a small photo album hidden somewhere, but I really have know idea. Every time I brought it up, he wouldn't answer and change the topic, or he'd leave the room. I'm sorry, Cammie. I really wish I could do something."

I smiled and walked to the sinks. I splashed my face with water and dried it with the crappy paper towel. "Let's get back to the table," I said.

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><p>The two women were spotted walking back to the table, and Zach, who was finally speaking in coherent sentences again, started to freak out. "What if she starts crying? I not good with crying girls. I mean—"<p>

"Hello." Cammie pulled out a chair and sat down. Zach could see that she was still hurt, but was dealing better, like she was in on some kind of secret.

"Hi," Zach started. The young girl gave a hint of a smile. He took this as encouragement. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on, but you seem nice. Can we try this again, like, being friends?"

Cammie could see that he was nervous. She liked that he was willing to be friends, even though he was clearly freaked out by her earlier reaction. She had heard that last bit of conversation before she sat down. Plus, he looked disarrayed and a little out of it. Cammie stuck her hand across the table and said in a calm voice, "Hello. My name is Cameron Ann Morgan-Solomon. My friends call me Cammie. It's very nice to meet you."

Zach was confused for a second, then caught on. He took her hand. "My name is Zach Goode. I am pleased to meet you."

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><p>Joe Solomon and I were driving home. "Cammie. I am really sorry. I talked with him. He doesn't remember anything. I'm not sure what caused this, but my best guess is that something traumatic happened soon after he was adopted."<p>

I didn't really know what to say, or how to react to the whole situation. I mean, seriously! I had a hard time believing it was real. It seemed like a really, _really_, weird dream.

I put my earbuds in and turned on my new favorite song, "_Save Me"_ by my all-time favorite band in the world: Shinedown. When we got home, I immediately got changed and went to bed.

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><p><strong>Argh. sucky ending, but i wanted to get this out. I'm kinda stuck on where to go from here. I know what i want to happen later, but I'm not sure what to do to lead up to it. Sorry about all the jumping around. it had to be done.<strong>

**Listening to 'Hotel California' by The Eagles, 'Back to December' by Taylor Swift, 'Speak Now' Taylor Swift, 'Silent Ambush' by Rie Sinclair, and 'Save Me' by Shinedown**

**Let's try for 70 reviews.**

**the first three reviewers get a mini- teaser. Why three? It's my favorite number.**

**~3v3ry6ody'5 F00L~**


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